


I Take the Low Road, I Roam The Highways

by overratedantihero



Series: Strange is the Call of This Strange Man [10]
Category: Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Blood, Canon Typical Violence, Dick is injured, Hospitalization, Hurt, Instigating Jason, Instigating Slade, M/M, Violence, with a little comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 02:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overratedantihero/pseuds/overratedantihero
Summary: Dick is critically injured after one of Blockbuster's henchmen takes revenge for Slade's actions.





	I Take the Low Road, I Roam The Highways

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I'm drunk and y'all asked what would happen if Dick got injured.

Dick stayed at Slade’s condo three more days before he could no longer handle being caged. Slade was reluctant to let the little bird go, but Dick would have slipped out anyhow, so at least this way Slade could see him off with a possessive kiss.

Gotham was out of the question, and so Dick ventured back into Bludhaven. He spent an evening regaining a semblance of order over his city and found the stresses of the days prior shedding from his psyche as easily as it was shedding his civilian clothes.

And so, he was surprised when he stumbled upon the Red Hood, casually exchanging cash with one of the more prominent gang heirs right outside of a bar. Dick waited until Jason wandered into an alley to drop down, landing right in front of Jason from his perch on the roof.

“What are you doing here?” Dick growled. “Go back to Gotham. Or that island, or Hong Kong. Just leave.”

Jason cocked his head, and Dick could just imagine the smirk behind the hood. “Oh yeah? What’re you gonna do about it little bird? Call your big, bad mercenary to finish me off like he does everyone else who crosses you?”

Dick lurched towards Jason but didn’t do anything but breathe. Jason was exaggerating. Slade wouldn’t kill for him outside of dire circumstance. And Dick wouldn’t be so easily manipulated by his little brother. Dick stood a steadying breath.

“You- all of you- have misunderstood. I’m still me. That hasn’t changed. I wish you would respect my city.”

Jason laughed, a harsh, barking laugh that was mutilated by the mechanics of his helmet. “You’re so out of your league, Goldie,” Jason hissed, humor gone from his voice. “You have no idea what he’s capable of. You’re on a bender.”

Anger licked up Dick’s spine, and red hazed the edges of his vision. He tried so hard to tamper his angry streak, to keep that part of himself controlled and steady, but to do that, he had to feel it. To let it overtake him and shove him down like wave. And when it did, he shoved Jason into the brick wall of the alley.

“Stay out of it,” Dick growled, letting the anger wash over him. “Please,” he added, once it had. A plead to punctuate a threat. He couldn’t see Jason’s eyes, but Jason shoved Dick back. Dick stumbled, and Jason shoved him again.

“No,” Jason hissed. “I won’t.” Jason shoved him again. That anger tugged and pulled at Dick, and Dick stomped it down. “I won’t stay out of it, because I actually give a shit.”

Dick dug his heels into the pavement and grit his teeth, preparing to meet Jason’s next shove with a hit of his own. But so consumed were the boys in their posturing, they didn’t notice the other presence until he dropped from the low roof behind Dick to grab Dick’s throat.

“A sanctimonious bird and a cocky bastard walk into a bar,” the new presence laughed. “And only one walked out.”

Dick’s blood ran cold. He recognized that voice, one of Blockbuster’s men. He’d also heard of the recent slaughter, another gang must have struck Blockbuster because seven of his were found dead, throats slit. Dick swallowed hard. A slit throat was messy, personal business.

“Hey. Hey, man, let the man go. Let’s talk, yeah?” Jason murmured, voice low and placating. Dick didn’t know why; the henchman’s grip was loose, Dick could slip out of this—

Dick moved and felt the sharp point of a knife press against his throat, below his ear. Oh.

The man pressed up behind Dick laughed. “No,” he murmured, “no, I think I’ll keep Blue exactly where I have him. In the same place my buddies were, the other night. When they were cut down like fucking animals.”

“Blue didn’t have shit to do with that,” Jason hissed. “Let him go.”

“Let me help,” Dick murmured, conscious of the cold steel against his skin. “I can find out who did it, who killed them—”

“Oh!” The man hacked out a cruel laugh. “Oh shit! You don’t know, do you?” He continued to laugh, digging the knife hard enough into Dick’s flesh that blood began to bead around the tip. “I already know who killed them, Nightwing.”

“Who? Who did it, man, we’ll drag ‘em in,” Jason pleaded. Distantly, Dick thought to himself that it was sweet to hear that tone from Jason. That tone in regards to Dick.

“This little fucktoy,” the Man snapped. Before either Dick or Jason could react, the knife slid into Dick’s neck, dragging across the horizon of his throat. A gunshot sounded, close enough to ring in Dick’s ears, but Dick couldn’t think. He could only violently gasp and collapse to the asphalt below. Vaguely, he heard his name filter in through the shock of feeling his own blood pour down the front of his costume, and then even more blood into his lungs.

 _This is an impossible amount of blood,_ Dick thought to himself. _I don’t have this much blood to give._

And then Dick’s reality crashed, and he slumped forward into unconsciousness.

Jason, meanwhile, hadn’t felt this helpless since he’d had a crowbar slamming into the side of his face. He fell to his knees after shooting the henchman. And then he’d crawled forward, pulling Dick into his lap and pressing against Dick’s gaping neck with his gloved hands. It wasn’t enough, he needed a towel, he needed a medic, he needed Alfred, he needed for Dick’s throat to not have gotten slit.

God, Bruce would kill Jason. He’d kill Jason for going against his orders by entering Bludhaven, by interacting with the local gangs. By instigating Dick, by pushing Dick into a corner only to shove Dick right into the arms of a besmirched lackey.

“Oracle! Fuck, Oracle, patch me into Alfred. Oracle, he’s going to die! Oracle, please, please, just, please—”

“What happened?” Alfred’s cool, lilted voice broke through Jason’s panic. Jason swallowed hard.

“He—throat. His throat is slit.”

“I need more information, Sir. Try to focus. From what side? Is his throat cut all the way across? Did he gasp?”

Dick coughed and blood sprayed his lips with scarlet droplets.

“He- right side. Not all the way across- I, A, I shot him. I shot him ‘cause he was about to kill him. A, I’m sorry—”

“Never mind that, Red Hood. You know I don’t share your father’s qualms. Is he breathing?”

Jason glanced at Dick’s ashen face, heaving chest.

“Yeah. Real hard. Gasping, coughing. He coughed up blood, Alf.”

“Keep pressure. As much pressure as you can to stem the blood flow. If he loses too much, he may escalate into cardiac arrest. A medic from STAR Labs is on her way, I just need you to hold onto him for a bit longer. Can you do that?”

While Alfred talked, Jason pulled Dick’s head further into his lap so that he could press the edges of his shirt against Dick’s soaked neck. It wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t enough—

“Yeah,” Jason murmured, voice cracking. “I can hold onto him. Just—hurry. Please.”

Jason wasn’t sure how long he held Dick before someone leaped from a nearby rooftop to land directly behind Jason, but it couldn't have been more than a minute or two. Jason refused to move from where he hunched over Dick’s twitching body. He did listen keenly as footsteps sounded and then stopped.

“Here,” a deep, familiar voice murmured.

“Go away,” Jason murmured, wet voice disguised by his hood. “You did this.”

Slade sighed and dropped his offering onto Jason’s lap, so that it draped over Dick’s head. Despite his accusations, Jason greedily took the white towel, pressed it closely against Dick’s neck, and watched it become red.

“Give him to me, Jason,” Slade murmured, voice low and smooth. Unaffected. Jason wanted to punch him.

“Someone’s coming,” Jason muttered. “Someone’s coming to take care of him. You… you go away. He wouldn’t be like this if not for you. Get lost before Robin finds out. Because my hands may be full, but he’ll actually kill you. He’ll kill you so creatively they won’t be able to identify your corpse.”

“Blockbuster?’ Came the question. Jason lifted his head to spit off to the side, as close to Slade as he could land without moving Dick. Slade hummed.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said. “But I will be back for him.” The sound of receding footsteps echoed in the dim light.

Before Slade could make a complete retreat, Jason hoarsely cried, “Wait!” The footsteps halted. “Kill every fucking one of them,” Jason hissed. “Or I will.”

“I don’t need your permission,” Slade murmured, “to avenge what’s already mine. And Red Hood?”

Jason grunted, so Slade continued.

“If his larynx is cut, rest assured, I’ll raze this city to the ground.”

Jason grunted again, quieter. He forgot, sometimes, that Slade had children. That one of Slade’s children had a deep scar and no voice.

The beating of a helicopter’s wings drowned out any further conversation, and Slade was gone by the time the medic descended to take Jason’s place by Dick’s side.

Dick made it to the hospital. A jugular vein had been slit, and his trachea had been severed too. His larynx was untouched, his arteries intact. STAR Labs’s Gotham team created a makeshift ICU,  Dick eventually woke. By then, he had already been visited by all of Gotham’s masks and half the Justice League.

As Dick’s eyelashes fluttered open and the Titans all lurched from their seats to crowd him and cling to him, Bludhaven Police found and identified Roland Desmond’s body. Desmond’s body was mutilated, near beyond recognition. It took hours to sort through the flesh to identify him, much less find any clue as to the identity of his assailant. Near the site, several more bodies were found, all known associates of Desmond. Other bodies were being uncovered across the city, their connection to the deceased unknown. 

Dick was denied access to the television, and by extension the news, for most of his first, lucid day. Instead, he spent his time receiving the gifts and well wishes of the superhero community, with occasional visitors carefully vetted by Batman. Which is why it was curious how a particular bouquet made it into the room, when it was signed:

_Recover soon, little bird._

Dick hid his grin among the bouquet’s red anemones.

**Author's Note:**

> When Aphrodite's lover, Adonis, was gutted by a boar, she grew red anemone flowers from his blood in her grief.


End file.
